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       #Post#: 953--------------------------------------------------
       The Coterie - The Edition Hotel (pt 1)
       By: BIGDoor82 Date: February 14, 2025, 2:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       # Tampa by Night: The Edition
       ----
       ## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-05 12:30:44 | 12196
       Stacy
       *Young hearts, out our minds
       Runnin' 'til we outta time
       Wild childs, lookin' good
       Livin' hard just like we should*
       -Kesha
       [*Approved*]
       Malkavian | Oracular Ability
       Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
       Hallucinations
       BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6
       Feeding, for me, went as smoothly as ever. I was expedient, only
       getting what I needed. Like always it was on the dance floor, in
       the form of a kiss, which I bit the tongue of my victims. Mess.
       Still, while I danced and fed I kept an eye on my young
       companion. She needed specific blood, and so her hunting methods
       were different from mine.
       The whispers spoke, sometimes repeating the music, sometimes
       reminding me that the man is coming, other times taunting me,
       telling me I will fail. The sparkles danced in time with the
       music, and would settle on those who would become my victims.
       It’s a dance of sight and sound that is ever present.
       Once we’re done, it is time. We must retire to the hotel. The
       sun will rise soon, and we must be in a safe place before it
       does…
       *The Edition Penthouse*
       The twins came with us, keeping a respectable distance, but
       being watchful. I rarely go anywhere without them. MK and I are
       arm in arm, each with a bottle in our free hands, looking for
       all the world to simply be two rich drunk chicks as we make our
       way into the hotel and up to our room. The twins separate, one
       goes to the security room, flashes credentials that get him in,
       and helps with the hotel’s security to keep the Penthouse safe.
       They’re both armed with their weapons. The other twin comes with
       us, and will guard the elevator’s penthouse exit.
       Once we’re in the room, MK and I, I drop the act, mostly, walk
       over to the couch, Spin “Whee!” and land on my back. I’m still
       dressed like I was at the club, the smallest amount of sparkle
       fabric I can legally wear in public, and glitter makeup and body
       spray. I smell of kine. I feel good. Alex takes his place in the
       chair by the elevator door. He’s dressed professionally casual,
       but his tattoos can still be seen in some places, like his neck
       and hands.
       ----
       ## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-06 00:55:42 | 12214
       "Don't talk like you don't want me,
       Don't talk like I'm some zombie"
       [Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]
       "Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go,
       Say you're ready to go.
       I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say
       you're ready to go."
       [App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
       [WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 8/10]
       Tampa, FL
       M'Kayleigh lead Stacy through the front of the club, and past
       the bouncers and other door staff. She waves the club staff and
       a few random people off. She didn't have time for some local DJ
       to slip her a USB of his mix, or some fangirl to get a pic to
       tag in her Instagram. "ugh, BZZZ BZZZ randos" It was far too
       late for all that, and it was close enough to sunup at this
       point she wouldn't be able to *really* enjoy the hunt. She was
       frustrated at the events of the night, and the situation they
       were going to have to deal with once they get to the hotel. She
       hadn't fed, and she was cutting it close. She needed the blood,
       but she didn't have time to hunt in her usual way. Still, she
       had short-cuts she could take to expedite the process.
       "Stacy, VIP ASAP BRB. You stay here. Don't leave the dancefloor"
       Her eyes locked in on Stacy, searching for the signs of lucid
       understanding. "Stay Here" She repeats. Once she was sure that
       Stacy was good, she made her way hastily towards the VIP section
       and finds her ecstacy dealer, a slightly dorky looking guy in
       his 20s wearing a backwards hat and a backpack. "Roger, one time
       sneaky link, not tonight tho. I'll let you smash, no cap. Kitty
       emoji." She winks "Gotta spill the tea bro, whos rolling?" The
       drug dealing college chemist jumped at the chance to hook up
       with MK, and was more than willing to point out the people he
       had sold to. It wasn't narcing if its not cops, right?
       MK slinks out onto the dancefloor, for a moment enjoying the
       music before checking on Stacy. She lets her eyes flick from
       random blonde girl to random blonde girl searching for her
       Malkavian companion until she makes brief eye contact with her.
       She spins on the heels of her flat bottom sandals and makes her
       way back up the stairs to the VIP area. She slides up next to a
       dark haired girl roughly her age, her gaze locked with the girls
       dilated eyes. She smoothly reaches up and touches her cheek.
       "OMG slay queen. You are a whole snack. I could eat you up" she
       grins and leans in to kiss the girl, who was happy to return the
       kiss with little more prompting than MK just being MK. She
       trails her kisses from the girls lips across the edge of her
       jawline to her ear, and then down to her neck. She cups the
       other girls head in her hand as she feeds from her. She was
       growing to enjoy the taste of blood, but it was the flood of
       serotonin that rushed through the girl's veins as MK fed that
       she was after. It was the way in which her Clan's prey exclusion
       manifested in her. She didn't just enjoy it, she required it.
       She wouldn't take very much of the girl's blood, just enough to
       satisfy the hunger. When finished she finds Stacy and they leave
       together.
       M'Kayleigh wasn't thrilled about the situation when arriving at
       the hotel. Sure, it made sense to lock down the penthouse suite
       of the hotel and 'make a circle with the wagons' or whatever
       Clara was talking about, but the whole 'one way in, one way out'
       thing sounds like a few trap-houses she's been in. She wasn't
       the strategist here, so she would follow Clara's lead. She just
       knew she had to keep it low-key, until they figure it out. The
       last thing she wanted was for her sire to find out, and chastise
       her for whatever mistake she was bound to be making. "Whew, just
       made it before sunrise. The night wasn't a complete L, def not a
       W tho. I guess i"ll call it a T. Whatevs" She tosses her phone
       and her 'go bag' onto a nearby chair and falls onto the couch
       next to Stacy. "love you bitch" She glances to Clara "You didn't
       miss much at the club, unfortunately... major *whomp whomp*" she
       makes the sad trombone sound and giggles a little. "How did your
       thing go?" She asks the cowgirl who had been busy setting up
       some protection for the Coterie. "who's ya friend?" She looks to
       Serge, briefly.
       ----
       ## Clara Groves / 2025-02-06 01:20:08 | 12220
       *I want to watch you bleed
       You're the crime but I'm the scene*
       Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
       The Tampa Edition: Penthouse Suite
       Sebastian precedes her, bringing two large suitcases and a
       duffel bag up with him on the elevator. He takes the luggage
       inside and sets up, the smaller bag first - his stuff. A case of
       beer for him and the twins, a pack of energy drinks, a single
       change of clothes (*men*) and a Springfield Saint Edge AR pistol
       gussied up with accessories as though for a ball, with a C-mag
       slotted and a spare waiting on the counter. He takes the dark
       blue suitcase into the master bedroom (the *only* bedroom) and
       leaves it in a corner, then hefts the red one onto the dining
       room table and leaves it for the boss. The fridge gets stocked,
       since only him and The Boys will be using it anyways, and he
       cracks a Coors Banquet as a reward for his labors.
       Of course, Clara and her new hire are not far behind. She
       hustles in without looking to the help for permission to do
       absolutely anything, making a bee line to the table and
       unzipping the bag there. She doesn't even take the time to doff
       her pinstripe duster. Inside, in a padded compartment, rests a
       TenPoint TRX 515 crossbow with severely bent limbs and an
       optical scope, a rack of wooden-shaft bolts mounted beneath it.
       She leaves that where it is, opening a pair of side pockets to
       withdraw three components: the upper receiver, the lower and
       exotic wood stock, and the pin of a breathtaking Beretta
       over-under shotgun hand engraved with a scene of ducks in flight
       and gilded with silver. She puts it together like a child
       slapping Lego bricks together and slots a pair of
       aggressive-looking 3" orange-hulled shells into the chambers.
       She sets this next to the bag and lets out a breath. "Do *not*
       touch this," she cautions the other vampires, the first time
       she's bothered to acknowledge them.
       From a third slot comes a Colt Dragoon revolver, a powder horn
       and a pouch that rattles softly like there's soft metal bits
       inside. She takes a seat and looks at the others, laying these
       items out carefully. "This is Sergine. They're new in town, but
       come highly recommended by Brighton. They'll be stayin' with us
       for the duration." Her bright eyes flicker between Stacy and MK.
       "Anastasia, have you had any more visions? Something that could
       clarify what we're dealing with?" Her hands pour a black powder
       into the chamber of the revolver. She's done this for fifty
       years or so and doesn't need to watch her work. It's all rote
       now, she knows exactly how long it takes to pour fifty grains.
       And once it's done she reaches into the velvet pouch and
       extracts a pressed silver ball, fitting it in to seal the
       powder. Pressing it down with the lever built in under the
       barrel of the revolver.
       ----
       ## Sergine "Serge" Carlock / 2025-02-06 01:45:18 | 12222
       Come see this little war of mine.
       [In stress testing]
       Camarilla Brujah
       Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes | Strength 4 : Viscous | New
       Arrival | Rep
       Sergine arrives but a few steps behind Clara, the individual
       still dressed in a fitted black suit, with a black shirt and an
       even blacker tie. It's a severe looking outfit, but it works for
       the angular features of its wearer. Sergine is tall, standing at
       6'1 she towers over the others in the space. He is also the
       least attractive thing in the space, everyone here is, by
       definition, pretty. Sergine may have at one point fit in well
       with the coterie, but the myriad scars that crisscross their
       features leaves them far from the same classification.
       The brujah did not arrive empty handed either. striding in with
       an extra long dufflebag, over one shoulder, a long hardcase over
       the other and a backpack squeezed inbetween those two things.
       Encircled by each arm is a pair of large rolled up, what looks
       like rubber mats, each of them likely many yards worth of
       material. None of this seems to bother the individual, who at
       the best of times is hard to place in regards to his gender.
       Smoke grey eyes survey the space as they enter, taking in all
       points of entry before casually setting their own load down
       beside the table, but not, as of yet beginning to unload
       anything.
       "Pleasure." The Brujah offers as she turns about, the sound of
       her voice like that of someone who smoked to much, or maybe
       their vocal chords were as scarred as the rest of them. Sergine
       seemed to take a moment to take in the other vampires and their
       ghouled staff before looking once more to the space around them.
       He notes the many, many windows and a grimace crosses his
       features, the look causing the many scars that beset her face to
       crinkle and shift. They'd turn back once more, returning their
       attention to the table as the woman unslung a copious amount of
       weaponry, those grey eyes taking particular note of the beretta
       and its...specialist ammo.
       "Decent little armoury." They'd admit before looking to Clara,
       clearly intent upon something, but pauses....now was not their
       time to talk.
       ----
       ## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-06 03:22:37 | 12226
       Stacy
       *Young hearts, out our minds
       Runnin' 'til we outta time
       Wild childs, lookin' good
       Livin' hard just like we should*
       -Kesha
       [*Approved*]
       Malkavian | Oracular Ability
       Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
       Hallucinations
       BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6
       I'm mostly quiet while I watch the new person. The brujah's face
       sparkles, especially around the scars. *They're a warrior, a
       soldier, a weapon* the whispers say. Of course he is, she looks
       the part. Their entire demeanor screams it. This is a mercenary,
       looking for a cause.
       “Love you too, bitch.” I reply to MK with a distracted smile,
       though my eyes never leave Serge. They intrigue me. I have to
       force myself to pull my eyes away (( WP to Supress derangement
       )). The light in my eyes completely chances as I force the Gift
       of Malkav down. My focused eyes turn to Clara. “No, but they
       come when they wish, so pay attention.” I say with a smile, and
       then push myself to my feet.
       I look at Serge again, this time with clarity in my eyes. “Alex
       and Mitch are yours to command until this is over.” I tell the
       mercenary. “They're skilled, and know how to use what might my
       blood gives them.” I look at Alex sitting by the elevator. “Do
       you understand?” I ask, him and he just nods. Then to Clara. “I
       can fire a gun. Daddy made sure I could defend myself.” Before I
       drank him dry, thanks to my Sire...
       ----
       ## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-06 04:46:24 | 12228
       "Don't talk like you don't want me,
       Don't talk like I'm some zombie"
       [Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]
       "Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go,
       Say you're ready to go.
       I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say
       you're ready to go."
       [App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
       [WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 8/10]
       Tampa, FL
       M'kayleigh watches as Sebastien unloads all his gear, some
       energy drinks and some kind of fancy rifle or something. She
       thought about saying hi and flirting a little, but suppressed
       the urge to toy with him for the moment. He looked kinda busy,
       and well... once the gun came out, she was less interested. She
       flicks her eyes around the room as more people enter, Clara and
       the new addition to the group, Sergine. MK joins Stacy on the
       couch as more weapons get brought out. She's pretty sure they
       *all* were fancy, and somewhere somebody would be creaming
       themselves over the firearms. She however, was thoroughly
       disinterested.
       "I'm not touching any of them, periodt. Thanks for the heads up
       tho, 'preesh." She says with a grin. Guns just... weren't her
       thing. She took a women's self defense class, to like... get
       away from attackers or whatever. Daddy made her take fencing
       lessons before the plane crash, so she could theoretically
       *kinda* use a very thin sword if they had one, but even then she
       was sure it would likely not come to that. They appeared to have
       it covered, as far as personnel and weapons. She was glad she
       didn't have to throw money at the problem and deal with a bunch
       of the private corporate military 'walking eggplant emojis' that
       Daddy usually employed when his safety was put into question. MK
       wasn't a fighter, but she would do anything she could to help...
       right now her help was obviously not needed.
       MK leans against Stacy, listening to the Malkavian address the
       Brujah and order her twin ghouls around. "Welcome back" she
       whispers. She looks back to Clara as the Toreador makes
       introductions after the lengthy setup of her own weaponry. It
       was quite the little armory the three of them, including
       Sebastian, had unloaded and readied. "Sergine..." She repeats
       the name. "That's fvcking Tuff. I'm here for it, the androgyny,
       the scars, it's all giving FAAFO. I love that for you." She
       gushes. "I'm M'Kayliegh Bancroft, or MK" She says with a slight
       shrug. "She, Her" She adds. The one benefit of her young age is
       her complete acceptance of gender identity, and presentation, or
       lack thereof. She wouldn't ask Serge's gender... but she would
       offer her own pronouns, in case Serge wanted to drop theirs. If
       not, MK would remain gender neutral when referring to them, and
       use their name more often than not. "So like... what's next? Do
       we just sit here and wait for something to happen?"
       ----
       ## Clara Groves / 2025-02-06 04:53:42 | 12230
       *I want to watch you bleed
       You're the crime but I'm the scene*
       Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
       The Tampa Edition: Penthouse Suite
       Two chambers in, and she turns her gaze up at Serge while
       working on the third. Didn't bring her nitrile gloves, but of
       course there are always moist towelettes to obsessively clean
       black smears off of her fingertips between bullets. Mental note
       to add a box of gloves to her emergency kit next time. "If I
       gotta sling DBs, we're in a heap of trouble," she murmurs to the
       Brujah, using an acronym to keep the other two from picking up
       on what precisely she means. The less they know, the better.
       Third silver bullet is pressed down into the powder.
       Standing from the table, she paces over to Stacy and pulls her
       long coat back to expose the 7.5mm Field Pistol at her hip. It's
       far more modern than anything else she'd brought. "Only a
       thousand of these were ever made," she explains, drawing the
       bulky pistol. It's slightly larger than an M1911 - slightly
       longer, slightly wider. Her left hand darts for the Malkavian's
       wrist, like a rattler goin' for a bite. "Won't ever be no more,
       I reckon." She presses the bright red aluminum grip into Stacy's
       palm. "So this ain't... for keeps. But use it if you got to,
       Anastasia." Light grey eyes stare into Stacy's meaningful.
       "It's chambered, an' the safety's off." She lets go of the
       weapon completely and then looks to MK. "Well, M'Kayleigh, day's
       fast approaching. I think what we do *now* is turn in." She
       looks around for Sebastian, then snaps her fingers twice to get
       his attention. "If I find out you got drunk and passed out I'll
       shoot you like a damn snake." He gives her a casual wave, as
       though she'd just given him a friendly greeting, then changes
       the channel on the big flatscreen in the side room he's set up
       shop in and takes another long swig of beer.
       *****************************************************